PR 4518 
■C56 H6 
1820 
Copy 1 



? 



HONOUR 



OR, 



ARRIVALS FROM COLLEGE 



A COMEDY, 



IN THREE ACTS. 



PERFORMED, FOR THE FIRST TIME, 



THEATRE-ROYAL, DRURY-LANE, 

On Saturday, April 17th, 1819. 



By THOMAS CROMWELL, 



LONDON — 1820. 




Class. 
Book 



DOBELL COLLECTION 






205449 
'13 



Printed (for One Hundred Subscribers only) by Thomas Davison, Whitefriars. 



TO 

JOHN GREIG, ESQ. 

IN JUSTICE, 
FOR HIS ABLE CORRECTIONS OF 

THIS COMEDY 

IN ITS EARLY STATE, 

AND 

IN GRATITUDE, 
FOR THAT, AND MANY OTHER MARKS, OF HIS 

UNREMITTED FRIENDSHIP, 

IT IS NOW 

VERY RESPECTFULLY 

INSCRIBED, 

BY 

THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE 



THE period that has elapsed since the 
proposals for printing this Comedy were 
originally issued, renders a few words of ex- 
planation due to the Subscribers. Not in- 
tending, at that time, to submit the piece to 
either of the theatres, it was only at the 
suggestions of a gentleman, of some theatrical 
experience, who accidently saw and thought 
favourably of it as an acting play, that it was 
despatched (wholly unrecommended, and 
its author personally unknown,) to Mr. S. 
Kemble 5 then Manager of the Theatre- 
Royal, Drury-Lane. After considerable de- 
lay, it was perused, accepted, and eventually 
performed — but, under circumstances, that 
rendered the share of public approbation it 



VI PREFACE. 

received, a matter of genuine surprise to 
the author. These circumstances may be 
briefly related. The house wanted a Co- 
medy : this piece, as originally written, was 
of a mixed character, vacillating between 
the grave and the gay, — similar to some 
successful dramatic productions by the 
Younger Colman, — and it was with the 
greatest unwillingness the author was in- 
duced to subtract from it all that was of 
serious interest, particularly as the two last, 
and what of course should be the two most 
effective, acts, were almost entirely of a serious 
complexion. Indeed, it was found so im- 
possible wholly to divest these acts of this 
prevailing feature, (constituting their chief, 
if not their only interest,) without, at the 
same time, destroying the essentials of the 
plot, that several of the graver incidents still 
unavoidably had place in them, although 
foreign to the character of legitimate comedy. 
The consequences were more favourable to 
the author than he had ventured to antici- 



PREFACE. Vll 



pate : the three first acts were heard with 
applause, the two last with forbearance ; but 
both author and manager concurred in the 
propriety of withdrawing the ? Comedy/ as 
it was called, after the third night. The 
theatrical issue of the affair led only to a 
new difficulty : since, to print the piece in 
its original form, would be disrespectful to 
that public voice which had so warmly en- 
couraged this juvenile dramatic attempt, in 
its altered shape, throughout the three first 
acts of its representation ; and to submit 
the whole to the Subscribers, as performed, 
would neither be gratifying to them, nor just 
to the author, as it might argue an approval 
of those alterations in the fourth and fifth 
acts, which from the first moment he con- 
demned. The only practicable alternative 
has been at length pursued: — to print the 
piece so far as decidedly approved by the 
public, that is, to the end of the third act, 
and there produce the denouement: an 
arrangement, by which, however humble may 



Vlll PREFACE. 

be the merits of the piece, all that was in- 
consistent with comedy is omitted, and a 
drama more justly in titled to that name 
presented, with every sentiment of respect, 
to the Subscribers. — The few alterations ren- 
dered necessary by the construction of the 
piece in three instead of five acts, are ex- 
tremely trifling, and consist almost entirely 
of omissions. 



PROLOGUE, 

Spoken by Mr. D. Fisher. 



There are, who deem that this degenerate age 
Knows not the empire of a genuine Stage — 
A Stage, where Virtue holds her rightful sway, 
Where Folly views her image of the day ; 
And Comedy, in language pure and terse, 
Nor whines false sentiment, nor stoops to Farce, 
But who shall say if this be true ? Not ive : 
Judge YOU the Muse of modern Comedy ; 
And say, if he who, labouring for wit, 
Still sacrifices sense, to make a hit — 
Caricature his only steady aim, 
And the loud laugh his salvo for all blame — 
If he's the Poet whom Thalia chose 
T' unbend, with decent mirth, Care's rigid brows 
To point the Satirist's unvenom'd dart, 
Amuse the mind, but meliorate the heart ? 
His manual jests, with pointless repartee, 
And pantomimic feats, see, Critics, see ! 
And teach the Bard — make such a Comedy \ 

b 



PROLOGUE. 

The Bard, to-night, essays an honest course, 
Striving to please, by what should please perforce,, 
If Nature, as he thinks, pervades his play — 
Tho' not one " clap-trap" he has deign'd to lay. 
With you it rests, to frame that sentence just, 
Which lifts to fame, or sinks into the dust : 
Condemn'd, he'll crave no pity for his fate, 
Convinc'd that on his Muse no laurels wait ; 
Approv'd, with rapture hail his portraits true, 
And Nature strive again to paint — for YOU. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



COLONEL CHOLERIC - Mr. Gattie. 

EDMUND VILLIERS - Mr. H. Kemble. 

SIR JASPER JAY Mr. Harley. 

CAPTAIN O'CAROLAN - - - Mr. Johnstone. 

BUCKSKIN Mb.Penley. 

DUNCAN Mr. Williams. 

BLIND THOMAS - - - Mr. Hughes. 

EMMELINE CHOLERIC - - - Mrs. West. 

FLORA - - - - - - Mrs.Orger. 



HONOUR. 



ACT I. 

SCENE I. 

Moonlight. A rural spot, with three crossroads 
meeting in the centre. A neat cottage on one side, 
having a light in an upper window. 

Enter Edmund. 

Edm. Ay, 'tis the cottage this, I should leave 
on the right ; and yon road conducts me to my 
uncle's — to my Emmeline ! So far, then, on my 
way from Oxford ; and now, proceeding on the 
wings of love — 

[Buckskin heard without 

Buck. Hip ! holloa ! hip ! light there ! — (Enters) 
Confound this country cross-road ! where, in the 
name of whip and spur together, has it brought 
me? Soho! a house ! — (Sees Edmund) Who the 
plague have we here ? some footpad, may-be ! 

Edm. Buckskin ! or do my eyes deceive me ? 

Buck. Why! what! no! — Villiers! My dear 
fellow, I'm as happy to see you at this moment as 

B 



2 HONOUR. [ACT I. 

if I'd just won the plate at Epsom. But, have the 
goodness to answer me one question — Pray now, 
where did you spring from ? 

Edm. From Brazenose again, and during term | 

Buck, And you from Merton, sweet Sir, during 
term ! you, that are never truant from your Col- 
lege ! you ! 

Edm. Psha ! I have business this way ; so took 
advantage of the first conveyance, and — 

Buck. Business ! so have I. Sale at Tattersall's 
to-morrow morning ; and a new piece to-night at 
Drury Lane, that I was positively engaged to at- 
tend. But Black Slouch, my mare, you must 
know, lost wind, and came down with me just at 
the bottom of this cursed lane ; so, seeing this — 
this village inn, as I at a distance conceived it, I 
e'en left the jade, and, making towards it, to my 
wonderment, find you standing here, like a finger- 
post, in the cross-road — and ready, I devoutly 
hope, to answer all the purposes of one ! Which 
way shall I turn me, hey ? 

Edm. If you would have my advice, turn back 
again to the poor animal, that, by your own ac- 
count, you must have used unmercifully ; and re- 
member, that a village inn usually affords " enter- 
tainment for man and horse." For my own part, 
as the business I mentioned is somewhat private, 
and the company of another, you'll excuse me, 
unnecessary, I must take my hasty departure, Mr. 
Buckskin. {Going.) 

Buck. {Detains him.) Why, at this " witching 



scene i.] Honour. 3 

hour o' night," where can you be going, that 

I have hit it ; sly ! Villiers, sly ! sly I but I've hit 
it : pray, doesn't a certain fair cousin of yours, 
only daughter to the rich Colonel Choleric, (uncle 
by the mother's side, and all that) live somewhere 
here by the turning on the off side of the road ? 
Then, {takes Edmund's arm) proceed we lovingly 
together 5 and, my dear fellow, bespeak beds for 
nephew and friend, hey? 

Edm. How shall I be rid of this impertinent? 
{Aside.) Mr. Buckskin, depend on me, I shall not 
see Colonel Choleric to-night. Yonder is my 
road ; that, opposite to the one you arrived by, 
will conduct you to the nearest town ; so, till we 

meet at Oxford 

Buck. If I quit you, may I never quit College 
for London again. Why, man, I'll stick to you 
like the Proctor to a Collegian who has broken the 
rules : I'll cling to you like — 

Edm. That be at your peril. (Breaks from him.) 

I cannot delay : farewell, Sir ! {Going. 

Buck. Then curse me but you shall hear the 

news from Oxford first. Your fair cousin, 'tis said 

there— 

Edm. Psha! {Still going- 

Buck. {Calls after him.) Is going to be married 
to Sir Jasper Jay ! 

Edm. [Stops.) Buckskin ;'! (Returns) What of Sir 
Jasper Jay ? 

Buck. O, why— ha! ha! ha! many|thanks to 
him for your company again— that's all : ha! ha! 
ha!— 



4 HONOUR. [ACT I. 

Edm. But does not this confirm the intelligence 
which induced me to leave the University? (Aside.) 
Harkee, my friend Buckskin, explain this instant 
what you just now said about Sir Jasper's marriage 
with Miss Choleric, or, take my word for it, I'll 
so trounce that jockey-suit of your's, that its 
worthless contents shall not be able to appear in 
Brazenose again these six months. 

Buck. The devil you will ! 

Edm. Ay, Sir ; explain, or — 

Buck. Softly, my friend, softly. If you must 
know, the Baronet 's at the Colonels ; sporting 
Miss Choleric, and his new curricle, every day to- 
gether. Nothing to you, you know, Villiers, no- 
thing to you ; but — mum — between ourselves, the 
day's fixed! jewels bought! liveries bespoke! 
Then Sir Jasper's in such favour with the old 
gentleman ; Emmeline so enraptured with her 
lover; while, for his equipage — she's dying for his 
equipage: now, my dear fellow, just picture to 
yourself four of the beautifullest blood bays ! Sir 
Jasper drives, side by side with Miss Choleric ; 
off they go ! Dart, High-flyer, Eclipse, Comet, all 
beat hollow !— ya-hip ! ya-hip ! push along! scour 
the country ! d — n turnpikes ! — all nothing to 
you, you know, Villiers ; nothing to you, you 
know ; nothing at all to you. 

Edm. His malice is apparent. [Aside.) 

Flora softly opens the cottage window. 

Flo. Strangers conversing below my window at 
this hour ! (Aside.) 



SCENE I.] HONOUR. S 

Edm. Now look you, Sir : dare but to repeat 
this story within the precincts of Merton, on your 
return, and, rely on me, I shall quickly help you 
to the shortest way back to your own Brazenose. 

Flo. Edmund Viiliers! delightful! [Aside.) 

Buck. Why now, look you, Mr. Viiliers, if your 
forehead hasn't more brass in it than all the noses 
put together of our College— 

Edm. The reflection, perhaps, of a companion's 
impertinence : it will vanish the instant of my dis- 
appearing. [Going. 

Flo. How shall I detain him ? [Aside.) 

Edm. Don't fail, when you reach Oxford again, 
to bring us a full budget of important chit-chat 
with those lords of your acquaintance — whom you 
never spoke to ; with particular mention of pint- 
bumpers — which you never drank ; together with 
an amusing account of your intrigues with box- 
lobby beauties— whom you had not the spirit to 
accost. 

Buck. 1*11 be revenged for this ! [Aside. 

Flo. He shall not go ! [Aside, passionately. Re- 
tires from the window. 

Edm. Adieu ! {Flora plays a prelude on the 
harp within.} What notes were those ? 

Buck. Some Ariel's in the sky, I think. In the 
name of christian fellowship, don't leave me, 
Viiliers ; there's always some enchantment lurking 
about these moonlight, rural wildernesses. 



6 HONOUR. [ACT I. 

Flora plays and sings within. 

Hither, weary traveller ! come : 
Friendship reigns beneath my dome j 
Here Hospitality's at home: 

Come ! come ! 

Buck. Come ! — By all means ; O ! certainly. 
'Tis from the house, man ; and may enchant us 
to a well-spread supper-table. 

Edm. Were it an angel's voice, I could not now 
listen to it. [Emt, by an upper entrance. 

Flora plays and sings. 

Wildered pilgrim, from afar, 

Ever turns to note the star, 

Faintly through the darkness peering, 

Hope reviving, fancy cheering : 

Thus my little taper's light, 

Far seen through the glooms of night, 

Meets and glads the traveller's eye, 

Telling him of shelter nigh. 

Hither, weary traveller ! come : 
Friendship reigns beneath my dome 5 
And Hospitality's at home : 

Come! come!* 

Buck. Well, if impudence would but procure 
me admittance, bed, and supper ! Suppose I sur- 
vey the premises. (Approaches on tiptoe to the 
door, which is suddenly opened by Fanny). Ah ! my 
pretty dear, how d' ye do ? Arrived late, you see ; 

* These lines are partly omitted in the representation. 



SCENE I.] HONOUR. 7 

but we travellers, that fear neither ghost nor 
highwayman — how's all the family, hey? 

Fan. The family, sir! If you mean the single 
lady, my mistress — 

Buck. Single lady ! Yes, the, the — O, confound 
my stars ! no admission for a single gentleman, I 
fear, then. [Aside. 

Fan. My mistress saw you from the window, 
sir, and, as she has the pleasure of knowing you — 

Buck. Indeed ! [Aside. 

Fa?2. Or perhaps it was the other gentleman, 
that— 

Buck. O, no, no; you are right, perfectly 
right ; don't think of troubling the other gentle- 
man. 

Fan. Though possibly, she said, you might not 
recollect her. 

Buck. Most likely not, I think. [Aside. 

Fan. Yet if you will excuse the liberty she 
takes in asking you to walk in — 

Buck. Liberty ! Not a word, my dear creature, 
not a word. Here's a lucky incident ! (Aside.) 
Lead, lead, pretty one, and I'll follow you. 

Fan. This way, sir, this way. 

[Exeunt into the Cottage. 



8 HONOUR. [ACT 1. 

SCENE II. 

A Room in Flora's Cottage. 

Enter Fanny uith Buckskin. 

Fan. My mistress will attend you directly, sir. 

\Exit. 

Buck. Auspicious be the meeting then! I'm 
almost inclined to fear this may prove a rather 
awkward rencontre. But I was never noted for 
bashfulness. — Hem ! 

Enter Flora. 

My dear madam, I'm so rejoiced to see you again 
— now, curse me, if ever I saw her in my life 
before ! {Aside.) Madam, your most obedient, hum- 
blest of servants. 

Flo. Confusion ! the coxcomb I heard Villiers 
rating below. {Aside.) I do not remember that I 
have the honour of your acquaintance, sir. 

[Scornfully, 

Buck. O, ma'am, your servant appears to un- 
derstand that matter much better than either of 
us. She but this moment assured me that you 
had. 

Flo. My servant ! Where is the gentleman who 
accompanied you, sir ? 

Buck. He I the gentleman! What, then, did 
the girl really mistake me for him, ma'am ? 



SCENE II.] HONOUR. 9 

Flo. That I should conceive impossible. 

[ Contemptuously. 

Buck. So I thought, ma'am, so I thought. He, 
my dear ma'am, he's now on his way, as fast as 
lover's legs can carry him, to his uncle's — one 
Colonel Choleric, whose daughter, I suspect, is 
his magnet of attraction to this quarter. 

Flo. Indeed ! — What has not three years absence 
from my rival, then, effaced his love ? — and am I 
still the poor, unthought-of, ruined Flora ? [Aside. 

Buck. The fact, ma'am, as my name 's Buck- 
skin. But, could he outstrip the wind to-night, 
he's distanced, got the go-by ; for Sir Jasper Jay's 
the favoured lover : Sir Jasper against the field, I 
say ; for conceive, my dear madam, only conceive : 
the Baronet with his four blood bays, the post in 
view — Villiers, ha ! ha ! ha ! travelling on foot by 
moonlight to overtake him ! The world to a nut- 
meg, again I say, upon Sir Jasper ! 

Flo. Sir Jasper ! Is it true, then ? — The fopling, 
who destroyed my peace ! good : Villiers thus 
loses Emmeline. It shall be true ; for I can 
weave a spell ! — {Aside.) Are you Villiers' friend? 

Buck. Devil take me if I am : cut me in the 
middle of the cross-road ! 

Flo. So ! {Aside.) Will you convey a letter for 
me to the Colonel instantly ? 

Buck. A letter ! instantly ! my dear madam !— 
if I budge, demme ! {Aside.) Perhaps you havVt 
a spare bed in the house ? but, if so, a sofa, a 

c 



10 HONOUR. [ACT I. 

chair— any thing — and in the morning I'm your 
devoted slave. 

Flo. Contemptible ! Why, 'tis scarce half a 
mile from hence, and my foot-boy shall be your 
escort there, Besides, as a friend of Sir Jasper's, 
you know, you cannot fail of a hospitable reception 
from the Colonel., 

Buck. I see! excellent! Write, Madam, write, 
and command your Mercury. 

Flo. (Sits at a table, and speaks as she writes. 
He seats himself opposite to her, and at intervals 
surveys her through a quizzing-glass.) And should 
the old gentleman, by chance, at least 'tis possible, 
inquire of you respecting the general character of 
Villiers at the University — in that case, pray now, 
how might you feel disposed to report him to his 
uncle ? 

Bitch. How ? set him down as on the very eve 
of expulsion. I'd report him with a vengeance! 

Flo. 'Twill do ! 'twill do ! (Aside.) And as to 
Sir Jasper — it were as well, perhaps, if this meet- 
ing were not named to him. 

Buck. Oho ! I smell danger. [Aside.) You may 
be confident I'll take every precaution not to make 
him jealous, Madam. 

Flo. Jealous ! But here, Sir, is my letter. 
Fanny ! (Rising. He rises. Enter Fanny.) Tell 
William to attend this gentleman to the Grove 
immediately. 

Buck. That's right, my pretty Fanny ! tell Wil- 



SCENE II.] HONOUR. 11 

liam to attend me to the Grove immediately. 
We'll have a parting kiss at the door, Fanny ! 
(Aside to Fanny.) Your servant, Madam ! — In 
luck at last, demrne ! 

\JLxeunt Buckskin and Fanny. 
Flo. Heigho ! a woman's heart's a strange thing, 
that is certain. I once, unconsciously to him, 
loved Edmund — passionately loved him ; yet I now 
seek his destruction, by involving him in a quarrel 
with the warm-hearted, but passionate, old uncle, 
upon whom alone he entirely depends. Emmeline 
I detest \ yet am I trying to unite her with the 
man, whose wealth, whose title, both should have 
been shared with me — all, all, rather than that she 
shall marry Edmund. My vengeance, at least, I 
shall thus gratify: I never loved Sir Jasper, though, 
lured by the thought that as his wife I should 
eclipse the hated Emmeline, I have become his 
dupe ; now, wedded to the fop, she, Emmeline, 
shall feel the misery of dependence upon a man 
she must despise ; and Edmund, in my power, 
shall, if he dares, still scorn the wretched Flora! 

\Exii. 



VI HONOUR. [ACT I. 



SCENE III. 

Moonlight. An extensive Garden, with a Mansion 
in the distance. On one side a Cottage, nearly 
concealed by trees. Several openings into the 
walks of the garden. A rustic chair in the centre. 

Enter Edmund. 

Edm. This is the very spot ! once, once again, 
I shall here meet my Emmeline ! There is the old 
garden-chair ; and there the laurels and the holly- 
tree : the very flowers look the same I left here so 
long since. Yet Emmeline, 'tis said, is changed! 
and Sir Jasper, who was my school-fellow, who, 
till the world rendered him the fribble he has since 
become, was my sworn friend — that he, knowing 

my attachment, should be now so base as By 

heaven ! the bare idea is insupportable. (Agitated.) 

Enter Duncan, as from the cottage, looking at 
Edmund with amazement. 

Dun. Heh! mon, ye're just a Bedlamite, I'm 
theenking noo. (Aside.) Holloa! ye Maister 
Crackt-pate — 

Edm. 'Sdeath ! fellow, who are you ? your busi- 
ness here ? 

Dun. The varra thing that I war gaun tul speer 
at him ! Hoo, Maister— 

Edm. How came you here, sirrah ? 



SCENE III.] HONOUR. IS 

Dun. Saul ! gin ye tak the wards oot o' my 
mouth ageen before Ise speak 'em tul ye — 

Edm. I know the voice. {Aside.) 

Dun. Yeer beesiness, yeer beesiness, i' maister's 
gairden here, this tim o' neeght, ye fallow, ye ? 

Edm. Duncan, the gardener ! Have you then 
forgot your old friend Edmund Villiers? 

Dun. Edmund — heh ! Edmund Villiers ! Mais- 
ter Edmund ! What ! come frae college ? laft it ? 
laft for aye, laddie ? — I' troth ! I'm blithe tul see, 
Maister Edmund! 

Edm. Thank you, thank you, good Duncan. 
But, I'm impatient, and cannot answer your in- 
quiries just now : I — shall I tell you, Duncan ? — 
I'm in love, you should know, with Emmeline. 

Dun. Just aw the village kens o' that. 

Edm. Indeed ! 

Dun. An' Miss Immlin dunna luve ye, Maister 
Edmund — troth ! she dunna luve ye ! 

Edm. My dear Duncan, do you think she does 
love me ? 

Dun. Haud ! ye're impatient ? 

Edm. No, I assure you, Duncan ; no, not in the 
least. 

Dun. Weel, Ise tal ye, lad, Ise tal ye. Dunna 
she luve that auld gairden-cheer, whar, ye remkn- 
ber, ye wad sit and play thegither, whan ye war 
wee-tot toddlin' bairnies, better nor the hale gair- 
den forby — dunna she ? dunna she? 

Edm . S\v e e t Em me! i ne ! 

Dun. An' she winna come sae pawkily just whan 



14 HONOUR. [ACT I. 

I'm diggin or hoein here i' the gairden — she wull 
— she wull ; an' aye contreeve to mak me be talk- 
ing tul her aboot Edmund, and Edmund — though 
she ne'er says a ward o' ye hersel ! 

Edm. I must believe she loves me ; but, hear- 
ing she was to be immediately married to Sir Jas- 
per Jay — 

Dun. Heh! 

Edm. I wrote instantly to your young lady, 
vowing, so positive was my information, I would 
be convinced of her constancy but from her own 
lips ; that at this spot to-night I would await her, 
and — indeed I wonder she's not here — 

Dun. An' ye reckon o' Miss Immlin's coming 
tul tryst wi' a mon here i' the moonsheene ! 

Edm. Psha ! So run towards the house, will you, 
and see if you can meet with her ? perhaps the 
sweet girl's already in the garden, but her fears 
impede her footsteps ; tell her my arrival ; run, 
good Duncan, run ! 

Dun. Weel, Maister Edmund, Ise gang, Ise 
gang; but I dunna theenk she'll come; ah! I 
dunna theenk't, I dunna theenk't, I tal ye, Mais- 
ter Edmund ! {Exit 

Edm. That I could feel quite certain she would 
attend my appointment ! I'll step and reconnoitre 
too — no, I'll go seat myself till she comes in the 
old garden-chair. [Sits. 

Enter Emmetine, looking timidly round. 
Emm. Edmund ! Is he not here ? 



SCENE III.] HONOUR, 15 

Edm. (Starting up.) Emmeline I A thousand, 
thousand thanks, dear girl, for granting me this 
precious meeting ! May I not hope love prompted 
the compliance ? that still, Emmeline, as in our 
childish years — 

Emm. It were but affectation to deny my love, 
when for its sake I can violate the commands of 
a father. 

Edm. Yet, when those commands appear, as to 
me I confess they do, to result less from reason, 
than from the caprice natural perhaps to age — 

Emm. Your uncle, Edmund, required of us, 
that we should not see, nor even correspond with 
each other, till you had quitted the University. 
His motives it becomes not us to scrutinize : no- 
thing, I fear, can excuse our disobeying him. 

Edm. No ! not my information of your ap- 
proaching marriage with Sir Jasper Jay ? 

Emm. Sir Jasper Jay! Now, Edmund, could 
you really think Sir Jasper, with all his flattery — 
or Sir Any-body— could win from you your own 
Emmeline ? Why, it was unkind ! unlike your- 
self! 

Edm. Best, and most generous of girls ! 

Emm. O, of course, now I've put you in good 
humour again. 

Edm. And lovelier than when we parted even ! 

Emm. Of course, of course ; but a truce to 
your flattery, or else, in pure revenge, I must tell 
you, that though, whenever I thought of Edmund 
in his absence — and I believe I did sometimes 



16 HONOUR. [ACT I. 

think of him — I always pictured him, in face, in 
air, in figure, as he used to look, yet I cannot 
discover, though he is grown taller, and more 
manly, and — so on — that I love him at all the less 
for it! 

Edm. Charming, charming Emmeline ! 

[Takes her hand. 

Emm. But, hark ! some one approaches. 

Edm. Surely not. 

Emm. Well, but see, the moon is getting lower 
in the sky, and will soon leave us. I could wish 
myself again beneath my father's roof. 

Edm. Be not in haste ; this happiness— 

Emm. Hush ! again ! the trees rustle ! 

Enter Duncan, speaking. 

Dun. I tald ye, Maister Edmund, I tald ye 
noo, Miss Immlin wadna come the neeghtj an* 
gin I hinna been leukin an' leukin — 

Emm. Duncan ! good heavens ! 

Dun. {Seeing Emm.) Heh ! 

Edm. I had forgot : by my desire he has been 
seeking you in the garden. Duncan, will you 
now see your young lady to the house ? 

Dun. Ay, wull I, Maister Edmund \ an* wi* mair 
pleasure than Ise see oot o't, her lane wi' ye i' 
the moonsheene. Come, Miss Immlin. 

Emm. Instantly. Farewell, Edmund ! 

Edm. (Kisses her hand.) My dearest girl, fare- 
well! 



SCENE III.] HONOUR. 17 

Emm. But, stay, had I not one question still to 
ask ? O, yes ; where are you now going ? 

Edm. To the next town, immediately. 

Emm. And to-morrow ? 

Edm. To return to Oxford. 

Emm. Well — farewell ! [Both look tenderly 

a moment. 

Edm. I must away: farewell, my dearer self! 
my Emmeline ! [Exit hastily. Emm. turns ceway 

her face, weeping. 

Dun. Weel, come, Miss Immlin ; come, lassie. 

Emm. O, should my father have observed — or 
should inquiry ever — Why these fears ? [Aside. 

Dun. Miss Immlin ! come noo : ye ken it's 
gettin a wee latish an' caldish, Miss Immlin. 

Emm. You would not betray my Edmund, 
Duncan ? [Taking his arm. 

Dun. Heh ! 

Emm. My father, you know, must not — how 
shall I speak it ? 

Dun. Ye needna, ye needna; sin' I ken a* ye'd 
gang tul say. Saul ! Ise tal a muckle lee for ye, 
gin there be any occasion, i' troth ! Miss Immlin ; 
i 9 troth ! Ise do my best to — to — (With emotion.) 
deceive yeer peur auld faither ! Come, Miss Imm- 
lin. [Exeunt. 



D 



IS HONOUR. [ACT II. 



ACT II. 



SCENE I. 



Colonel Choleric 9 s Park- Gates, and Lodge. 

(Morning.) 

Enter Captain O'Carohn. 
C, 9 C. So, so 5 arrived at last ! for these gates, 
I think, should be the mansion that was de- 
scribed to me. Within there ! man, woman, 
or child, whoever you are, that can answer the 
question a gentleman would be asking of you — 

Enter from the Lodge Blind Thomas. 

B. Thorn. Sir! 

C. O'C. Well, and why don't you speak, sir? 
B. Thorn. Sir, Pm but blind certainly, and 

therefore cannot tell who may be now talking 
with me ; but I can speak if you wish it, and will 
be kind enough to inform me what you would 
have me say. 

C.O'C. Say! Why the divil then don't you 
say whether this park here is Colonel Choleric's 
house or not ? 

B. Thorn, O, is it that you want to know, sir ? 

C. G'C. To be sure it is ; and havn't 1 been bawl- 
ing that civil inquiry in your ear this half-hour ? 



SCENE I.] HONOUR, 1Q 

B. Tfc:m. Ha ! ha ! I should take you to be a 
droll gentleman. Colonel Choleric, sir, is my 
good, hasty, old master. Thirty years, come Mar- 
tlemas, have I been in his service : long, long 
before he went to India I was his coach mar., 
and — 

C. (JC. But, my friend, as I have just ar- 
rived from that same India, and am a little 
impatient to have some conversation with my 
old companion in arms, could you by any means 
make me sensible of the shortest way to the house 
through those trees, which to me appear as intri- 
cate as a Bengal jungle ? 

B. Thorn. The way ! I will conduct you, Sir. 

C. O'C. Conduct me ! you ! 

B. Thorn. Surely: well, well do I know every 
inch of the path. 

C. O'C. A blind man know every inch of his 
path ! On my conscience now, that would have 
been a little bit of an English bull, if it had only 
been said by an Irishman. Why, how, in. the 
name of all the miracles— 

B. Thorn. Aha! I cannot myself tell how it is; 
unless indeed—yes, yes, I think I can too. The 
same Providence that deprived me of my sight, 
that providence directs me, 

C. O'C. Spoke like a Brahmin ! 

B. Thorn. And though, Sir, I dare not take 
step out of my own parish — 

C. OC. My good fellow, while you lead the wa^ 



20 HONOUR. [ACT II. 

depend upon it I'll never go before you. A blind 
guide for me all the world over ! 

\TLoceunt through the Gates, 



SCENE II. 

The Library at Colonel Choleric 9 s, looking into the 
Garden. 

Col. Choleric heard without. 

John ! Thomas ! Harry ! every one of you ! run 
this instant to that rascally gardener, (Enters with 
Buckskin.) and tell him if he sends me any more 
of his excuses, instead of coming to me when I order 
him, I'll make him trot back to Scotland, with his 
whole wardrobe slung upon a stick over his shoul- 
ders, just as he travelled here. D — n Scotchmen! 
I say, Mr. Buckskin ; for what are they good for, 
but to work hard for you when you see 'em and 
when you don't see 'em, say the same thing of 
you before your face and behind your back, serve 
you by day and by night, and at last make them- 
selves so plaguy useful to you, that you find it 
impossible to do without them ? — You slept well, 
I hope, Mr. Buckskin ? 

Buck. Charmingly, sir, charmingly. 

Col. C. And so you met with that young scape- 
grace, my nephew, last night, in this neighbour- 
hood? — you are positive as to all the circumstances? 



SCENE II.] HONOUR. 21 

Buck. Shan't forget them, sir, so long as my 
name's Buckskin. 

Col. C. This shallow-pate may blab more : I'll 
know how Edmund has behaved at Oxford. (Aside.) 
Were you well acquainted with the scoundrel — 
my nephew, I mean, sir — at the University ? 

Buck. Intimately, my dear sir, most intimately. 

Col. C. Then perhaps you may have observed — 
that is, if there were any little peculiarities in the 
common routine of his College conduct — 

Buck. As my fair hostess of last night antici- 
pated. ( Aside. ) Why, as to Mr. Villiers, sir — 
pay him off, I'm determined : (Aside.) for my 
own part, sir, however he may have been cen- 
sured of late — 

Col. C. Censured ! 

Buck. By our graver Collegians. 

Col. C. It has been so 3 then ? 

Buck. O, I assure you there's no escaping the 
malicious observation of some people, who, envy- 
ing, no doubt, the pleasures of the gay, accom- 
plished debauchee — under that title we'll suppose 
the very worse that can be said of your nephew 
may be included — 

Col. C. The worst ! 

Buck. Why, we must speak truth, Colonel ; 
and considering only, what must so naturally be re- 
marked, his extreme passion for horses, dogs, and 
hunting ! — 'tis actually said, sir, that he attends 
College prayers in a morning with a scarlet jacket 
and boots under his surplice ! — then, having his 



22 HONOUR. [act II. 

hack ready at the gate, he'll mount, join the hunt, 
and, before noon, fly half over the county ! — Way 
of my own that. (Aside. J 

Col. C. May it be possible ? 

Buck. And then his continual trips to London — 
even in term time — upon pretence of the death of 
some old aunt or grandmother ! 

Col. C. Zounds! sir, my nephew has neither 
aunts nor grandmothers. 

Buck. Ha! ha' ha! never supposed he had, sir. 
'Tis a college trick, my dear Colonel : nothing 
easier, you know, than to make up a batch of re- 
lations at a distance, and so — kill 'em as you want 
'em. 

Col. C. Rascal! d — me but it chokes me: if I 
see the dog again, I'll — Excuse me an hour or so, 
Mr. Buckskin : I've an unpleasant affair here up- 
on my hands ; I — I — expect my gardener. 

Buck. An unpleasant affair with his gardener ! 
(Aside.) Sir, make no apologies ; I was on the 
very point of taking leave, to attend my College 
duties. 

Col. C. Nay, nay, by no means. 

Buck. Must positively be back to-night. Study, 
sir, study has ever appeared of that importance to 
me — 

Col C. But surely one day from Oxford — 

Buck. Not an hour, sir, not an hour. Yet, on 
consideration, as you are so kind as to observe, 
but one day— on condition of my inevitable de- 
parture to-morrow — 

Col. C. To-morrow, use your pleasure. 



i 



SCENE II.] HONOUR. S3 

Buck. O, must be at Brazenose again to-morrow ! 
must be at Brazenose again to-morrow ! \JExit. 

Col. C. So ! 'twas him I saw then in the garden : 
and with Emmeline ! clandestinely !— I won't be- 
lieve it though I saw it. I wish the moon had been 
eclipsed last night, before it kept me so long, 
with night-cap on, gaping, staring, at my window. 
— Where is that rascal, Duncan ? (Hastily goes 
towards the side. J Why — 

Enter Duncan hastily. 

Dun. Ya — yas, yeer honour. Troth ! he's in a 
muckle fluster. (Aside.) 

Col. C. Duncan ! 

Dun. (Starts.) Ya — yas, yeer honour. 

Col. C. You were in the garden late last night — 
late, I say, sir — 

Dun. He kens it a* ! (Aside.) Heh! what — 
whan — yas — O, ay — yas — 

Col. C. Yes, sir ! and have you the impudence 
to stand there, and say yes, sir ? 

Dun. N — n — no— no — no, Sir. 

Col. C. Say no again, and I'll knock you down, 
sir. 'Tis false, sir! And so then you confess 
yourself the pander to your master's shame ; the 
hypocritical abettor of these moonlight assigna- 
tions, these — 

Dun. (Warmly) Duncan's nae siccan — I' troth! 
I'm not, yeer honour. 

Col. C. This instant tell me then who was in 
company with Miss Choleric in the garden? My 
nephew Edmund ?— say no, sirrah ! if you dare : 



24 HONOUR. [ACT II. 

speak ! it was that rebel ? speak ! that — that — boy, 
you used to pretend to be so fond of, you d — d 
old, faithful, foolish, Scotch — Why don't you tell 
me it was he ? 

Dun. By my saul noo, gin I dunna tal a nmckle 
lee tul yeer honour, Ise tald yun a'reedy tul 
Miss Immlin. — 

Col. C< Deny it, sir ! 'twas not him 1 dare to 
tell me the truth, and I'll kick you out of the 
house for it this moment, you rascal ! 

Dun. Ay, an ye'll but let me tal the lee tul 
yeer honour, just — just to kip my ward wi' Miss 
Immlin, ye ken, yeer honour ? 

Col. C. Begone ! Bid them tell Emmeline I 
want to see her here immediately. 

Dun. Ya yas, yeer honour. Troth ! here'll be 
a bonny piece o' wark presently ! [_Aside. — Exit. 

Col. C. That boy ! that boy ! — but I disown 
him : he marry Emmeline ! — I'll write to Oxford, 
and bid the Principal of his College admit him 
again at his peril: he marry Emmeline ! — he shall 
trudge the world barefoot. And for my daughter 
— though Sir Jasper has not yet declared himself — 
the coxcomb has a good estate, and his foppery 
will wear off, no doubt — D — me, she shall marry 
Sir Jasper ! [Seats himself at a table. 

Enter Emmeline. 
Well, but I did think that girl had loved her father 
still too well, to wound his old heart thus ! I did 
not think of Edmund as a thankless libertine ! 



SCENE II.] HONOUR. 25 

The cool deceiver ! —they were my comforts, both 
— but, from this hour, I curse that ingrate, Ed- 
mund! {Emmeline shrieks: he catches her in his 
arms.) My child ! 

Emm. Have I then wounded your affection, 
dearest father ? 

Col. C. You didn't mean it, girl ; I see now that 
you could not. Ask no forgiveness of me. - 

Emm. Father ! 

Col. C. I can't, can't bear that you should need 
it. But, if it must be — there, there, I forgive you. 

Emm. Generous father ! You will forgive Ed- 
mund too ? 

Col. C. Emmeline ! don't name Edmund. 

Emm. Pardon me ; but is he worse than I ? 

Col. C. Than you, my child ! The smooth- 
tongued serpent ! He has deceived you, Emme- 
line. 

Emm. Nay, if I am deceived by Edmund — 

Col. C. You are deceived by Edmund. Don't 
put me in a passion, girl : he's a villain. 

Emm. A villain ! O, no ! no ! 

Col. C. Judge, judge : do you remember Flora ? 

Emm. Flora! Ah! well! 

Col. C. Slightly related to us, her parents' mis- 
fortunes, as you know, induced me to become her 
protector : I brought her here, educated her with 
yourself — 

Emm. Why, sir, repeat the tale — 

Col. C. Reply, when you have read this letter. 

[Showing a letter. 



26 HONOUR. [act II. 

Emm. Ah ! 

Col. C. Nay, read it, girl ; it is your Edmund 
you must judge by every line. 

Emm. My Edmund ! no ! speak ! what ! it can- 
not be ! {Col. C. presses on her the letter.) Read 
it, read it to me, father. [Faintly. 

Col. C. Well, then — the conclusion will suffice. 
* The repentant Flora, conscious she is not worthy 
to address you, yet hopes you will not scorn the 
simple story she has at length unwillingly penned. 
I believe, sir, you will be as much surprised as 
grieved to hear, that the lover, — still too dear to 
me, though, feeling for your abused confidence, 
I thus expose him — the deceiver, who, pretending 
honourable attachment, inveigled from your hos- 
pitable roof, yet, speedily returning to his de- 
praved college associates, to misery abandoned 
me, was — your nephew, Edmund Villiers." Vile 
hypocrite! Now, girl — but you look ill — nay, 
let me support you. {She faints.) Fve been too 
harsh : look up, my love ! child ! Emmeline ! 
look up! — what! help! help! — 'tis Edmund's 
work this ! None hear me ! look up ! look up ! — 
I curse thee, boy ! again I curse thee, Edmund ! 
[Exit, supporting her in his arms. 



SCENE III.] HONOUR. 9,7 

SCENE III. 

Another Apartment at the Colonel's. 

Duncan crosses the Stage in a melancholy manner. 

Enter Sir Jasper Jay. 

Sir Jas. Duncan, my fine fellow ! tell the Colonel 
that— 

Dun. The Colonel's nae sic pleasant company 
the mornin', sir ; but he's noo upon the road, sae 
ye may speer tul him yeersel. \_Exit. 

Sir Jas. 'Pon my honour ! If that lumpish rascal 
were not a sort of a favourite with Miss Choleric, 
I declare I do think I should honour his shoulders 
with a few strokes of my stick. Miss Cholerics 
a fine girl v a lovely girl, faith ! and a fashionable 
captain, methinks, {Surveying himself) at the very 
summit of the ton, and a baronet to boot, might 
presume to stand a rather reasonable chance with 
her. So now I shall get the Colonel's consent, 
marry her directly, cut Flora, and then, if friend 
Villiers is affronted, as he makes it a point of 
conscience not to fight, I know — I dare to swear 
I shall challenge him ! The Colonel, to my 
wishes ! 

Enter Colonel Choleric. 
Good morning to you, Colonel. Just returned 
from a saunter round your park j looks enchant- 



28 MONOUR. [ACT II. 

ingly ; but a country park always wants company, 
life, and company, Colonel. Was not so fortunate 
as to meet your charming daughter on my walk : 
pray, how is Miss Choleric, Colonel ? 
Col. C. Why, rather unwell, Sir Jasper. 
Sir Jas. Extremely sorry, 'pon my honour. 
Like the Mall in St. James's, Colonel? combines, 
in my mind, all the sweets of the country with the 
advantages of town : green grass, green trees, 
piece of water, gravel- walk, and — company, 
Colonel. But, for Miss Choleric, extremely sorry, 
really. In brevity — 

CoL C. And clearness, let me hope, Sir Jasper. 
Sir Jas. Eh ! Why, you perceive it is not my 
forte to make speeches, Colonel. Can't be blind 
to the numberless attractions of Miss Choleric — 
that of her fortune more particularly: (Aside.) 
allow me then at once to solicit permission to throw 
myself, the slave to her perfections, at her feet. 

CoL C. Sit down, Sir Jasper, sit down. (Take 
chairs.) You were not aware, perhaps, that my 
daughter has been long attached to her cousin 
Villiers ? 

Sir Jas. I — no ; I had an idea of a — sort of a — 
penchant, on his part. 

CoL C. Sir, I once favoured that attachment; 
but now — listen to me: for I mean to be cool, 
sir, perfectly cool, while I inform you, that my 
nephew's a rascal, a scoundrel, a profligate, a 
hypocrite,a— a — but I won't be in a passion ; no, 
d — me if I'll be in a passion !— (Much agitated.) 



SCENE III.] HONOUR. 29 

Sir Jas. Villiers turned rake, by Jupiter ! 

(Aside : stifling a laugh,) 
Col. C. So be confident of my good offices in 
your favour, Sir Jasper ; but, for that young Beel- 
zebub of wickedness ! — 

Sir Jas. Colonel, command my eternal grati- 
tude. But, pray inform me, how has your nephew 
fallen under your displeasure? Has he been im- 
prudent ? extravagant ? 

Col. C. Sir Jasper, which do you suppose — of all 
the crimes that may debase a man — which do you 
suppose I look upon, from its utter meanness, as 
the most unworthy of a man ? 

Sir Jas. Why, Colonel, I should think, I should 
suppose, that is, I should conceive — really, I'm 
rather at a loss upon that subject. 
Col. C. Deliberate Seduction ! 
Sir Jas. [Pushes his chair to a distance from the 
Colonel) Eh ! — um — indeed ! What the deuce is he 
driving at ? (Aside.) 

Col. C. For, to my thinking, 'tis a compound of 
such vices, as the ingenuity of a worthless head 
only can devise, or the selfish cruelty of a callous 
heart can practise. At last, Fve received intelli- 
gence of the unhappy Flora. 

Sir Jas. The devil ! Flora ! (Aside — rising.) 
CoL C. At last Fve discovered her seducer. 

(Rises.) 
Sir Jas. What ! 
Col. C. And who, Sir Jasper, think you, but my 



30 HONOUR. [ACT II. 

grave nephew — yes, he, sir, he — the gentle suitor 
to my daughter — 'twould strangle me to speak it I 
She shall be yours, Sir Jasper, I say she shall be 
yours; my girl shall marry you, Sir Jasper — 'twill 
punish the young villain as he deserves — Emme- 
line, again I say, Emmeline shall be yours. 

Sir Jas. Dare to swear now I'm astonishment 
personified ! (Aside.) Colonel, the surprise — the 
— the thanks, I should say, that — upon my soul, 
can't speak my feelings. But how, my dear Co- 
lonel, could you learn this ? 

Col. C. By letter, and from Flora. 

Sir. Jas. From Flora ! I am petrified ! {Aside.) 

Col. C. Yes, last evening only ; but come, come, 
let 's to Emmeline immediately. 

Sir Jas. Excuse me ; I have business, business 
of importance, a short distance hence this morn- 
ing. Shall return with all a lover's haste, assure 
Miss Choleric. 

Col. C. Ay, ay, and prepare her to receive 
your addresses. Shall marry you, Sir Jasper — 
shall marry you ! (Enter a servant.) Well, Sir ? 

Serv. An officer in the saloon, Sir, waits your 
leisure. 

Col. C. An officer, Sir ! what do you mean by an 
officer, Sir ! what's the name of the officer, Sir ? 

Serv. I— I'll ask blind Thomas, Sir. Blind 
Thomas brought him here, Sir. 

Col. C. Blind nonsense ! go to the devil, Sir ! — 
and hark ye, mind you say Fm coming directly, 



SCENE III.] HONOUR. 31 

Sir. [Exit servant.) Good morning to you, Sir 
Jasper. Depend on my exerting all my interest 
with Emmeline, Sir Jasper. [Exit. 

Sir J as. Whew ! what a juncture of incidents ! 
— another such attack, and good night, I fear, to 
my whole stock of fashionable assurance : I'm in 
a twitter still. What can Flora mean by this? 
must have some secret motive, positively: I can de- 
fer Miss Choleric's felicity, poor girl! just till I've 
discovered it : — 'gad ! I'll to my fair unfortunate 
immediately. [Exit. 



3% HONOUR. [ACT III. 



ACT III 



SCENE I. 

The Cross-road and Cottage, as in Act I. Scene I. 

Enter Edmund. 

Edm. How pleasing to the once doubtful lover, 
is the sweet certainty of being beloved! De- 
lighted shall I now retrace my way, and carry in 
my breast that charming consciousness. While 
now, as I acquire my Alma-Mater's bays, the 
crown of all will be the kindling, the ennobling 
thought — my Emmeline is faithful ! 

Flora sings zvithin the Cottage. 
Ding, dong, dell, ding, dong, dell. 

Edm. Surely some sweet enchantment does lurk 
around this spot. The song that Emmeline oft 
sang to me in childhood ! 

Flora — Recitative. 
Edmund! Edmund! 
Edm. Am I called ? 

Flora. 
Ding, dong, dell, ding, dong, dell. 



SCENE II.] HONOUR. 33 

Edm. Some mystery attaches to that dwelling ; 
and, as time permits, I will e'en fathom it. (Ap- 
proaches the Cottage.} The open door invites me. 
In ! Edmund, in ! doubtless whoever sings that 
song is friendly to thy Emmeline. 

[Exit into the Cottage. 



SCENE II. 

A Room in the Cottage, as in Act I. Scene 2. 

Enter Ftora. 

Flo. Success! success! — Fanny! (Calls softly 
without — Enter Fanny.) Show the gentleman who 
has just entered this way immediately. [Exit 
Fanny.) He will not recollect me ? so little as he 
saw me at the Grove, so ignorant as he was of my 
soul's secret passion, 'tis not likely. Hist ! he's 
here ! an attitude ! 

[Reclines on a chair languishingly. 

Enter Edmund. 

Edm. Your pardon, madam, but — Lovely by 
heaven ! [Aside. 

Flo. (Rising with affected embarrassment.) Sir ! 
— this honour ! — I was unprepared ! — 

Edm. Madam, my intrusion here — 

Flo. Nay, Sir, it will not need excuse. You look 
weary : will you be seated ? {He seems to hesitate.) 
Edmund! [Tenderly. 



34 HONOUR. [ACT III. 

Edm. What may this mean? [Aside. 

Flo. Astonishment will not make you forget 
your gallantry, I hope, Sir. You see I am stand- 
ing ; you are my guest ; I cannot sit till you are 

seated. 

Edm. Nay, then, I obey : (Hands a chair to 

Flora, and seats himself.) but, pray inform me, how 

have I the honour to be known to you? 

Flo. What fair one, having heard of the all-ac- 
complished Villiers, but panted to be personally 
acquainted with him ? what female eye, but must 
instantly recognise the possessor of those reported 
attractions in the person of — Villiers himself — 

Edm. Madam ! There is a species of flattery to 
our sex, which, I had weakly thought, no female 
lips should give expression to. 

Flo. Arrogant man ! [Aside. 

Edm. Forgive me. Permit me now to make 
the apologies I feel due to you, for my so sudden 
entrance here : (Rises.) for, certainly, I had no 
right to interpret the accidental mention of my 
name in the air you w T ere just singing as a personal 
invitation to me. 

Flo. (Rises.) O, Sir, surely not : but pray now 
no more apologies. — I'll try a snatch of that old 
song he loved from childhood. [Aside. Sings. 

Come, and glossy pebbles bring 

Where no sunbeams play; 
And where the little busy spring 

Low gurgles on its way : 
Bring your shells and shiny ores, 
Sea-weeds grey, and coral stores, 



SCENE II.] HONOUR. 35 

And, 'neath the shade, 

Our grotto made, 
We'll listen, listen to the bells' 
Dear simple sound, that sinks and swells 
Its ding dong dell, &c. 

Sunbeams, silv'ring our retreat, 

Sparkling in the rill, 
Shall light our fairy-flitting feet 

Around the grotto still. 
Leaving then their moss-green bowers, 
Sister-sylphs will dance the hours 
So near, so near, 
That we shall hear 
Their steps trip to the dying bells' 
Soft sinking sound, that faintly swells 

Its ding dong dell, &c. 

Edm. Heavens ! how her notes stole on my 
melting soul ! what new pulsation thrills me ? — 
O, Emmeline! [Aside. 

Enter Sir Jasper Jay, unobserved. 

Lady! while I can command my will, I leave 
you. 

Flo. Edmund! 

Sir Jas. Stay, Mr. Villiers ! 

Flo. Is it possible ? [Aside: 

Edm. Sir Jasper here ! 

Sir Jas, Sir Jasper is at home, Sir; this is 
my house, Sir ; though Flora, I conceive it pos- 
sible, may have been most accustomed to receive 
you, Sir. Have him there ! (Aside.) This is not 
y our jirst visit, I presume, Mr. Villiers ? 



36 HONOUR. [act III. 

Edm. Flora! 

Fla. Yes, Flora, Sir; and since to Flora, it ap- 
pears, you still prefer the faithless Emmeline 

Edm. Faithless! my Emmeline! 

Flo. Faithless, proud youth ! Mark me ; your 
Emmeline is lost to you for ever ! Sir Jasper, may 
I be informed to what strange accident I owe the 
honour of your company, of late so rare a favour, 
since your acquaintance with Miss Choleric ? 

Sir Jas. Vastly well, madam, vastly well, upon 
my honour, madam. (Crosses to Flora.) Of course, 
you — you don't now value my protection, madam ? 

Flo. Sir Jasper ! would you dare — 

Sir Jas, Yes, madam, I would dare, to tell you, 
madam, that as this house appears to be equally 
convenient for friends and self, madam, your ab- 
sence here will for the future be more agreeable 
than your presence, madam. 

Flo. Deprive me of a home ! one course then 
only will remain ; to turn the tables on this cox- 
comb, and trust the Colonel for my friend. 
(Aside.') Spoke you of protection, Sir? Then 
know, that your protection I disdain, and ever did, 
from him, whose vanity could think I loved — 
though, at the moment that his arts appeared to 
triumph, him and his arts I scorned ! \_Fxit« 

Sir J as. O yes, I see ! Mr. Villiers— surprise, 
dignity, starts, et- cetera, and so forth : the lady — 
tragic effect: vastly well, vastly well. Sir, I 9 I 
am not thus to be deceived, Sir ! 

Edm. Have I so little known Sir Jasper Jay, 



SCENE II.] HONOUR. 37 

as to feel as much surprise on finding him the se- 
ducer of Flora, as of late to hear he was my insi- 
dious rival with Miss Choleric? 

SirJas. Heroics ! Won't do with me, Sir, won't 
do with me. I feel myself an injured man, Sir: 
name your own time and place : I conceive you 
understand? 

Edm. Are you so ignorant of the man, whose 
happiness you scrupled not, assassin-like, to stab at 
in the dark ? whose life — in recompense shall I 
suppose — you would unblushingly assault at noon- 
day ? Go, go. \_Passes him in contempt. 

SirJas. O! partly suspected as much. Won't 
you fight with me ? 

Edm. No, Sir Jasper Jay. [Contemptuously . 

SirJas. Then I'll bluster. (Aside.) Why, zounds 
and the devil ! Sir, and d — me, Sir, but I'll have 
satisfaction, Sir! Would you escape me? Would 
you be a coward, Sir? 

Edm. Are you serious ? (Smiling} But, even 
if you are, that imputation is but stale. Shame 
on the world ! that bans for cowardice the man, 
who, duty»prompted, braves the reproach which 
cowards only fear. If weary of your life, Sir 
Jasper, e'en risk it honourably : not private quar- 
rels, but a people's cause, should stir the Soldier 
to encounter death. What ! shall he vaunt his 
fire-side courage, who, in pure foppery, in ma- 
lice, or in pride, murders, or dies, alike regardless 
of his country's claims, his country's laws, his 
reason, and his God ? I proceed to the Colonel's, 



38 HONOUR. [ACT III. 

Sir; all seems not fair; but, while Emmeline 
still loves, no power on earth shall wrest her 
from me! [Exit. 

Sir Jas. Ton my honour ! But I should be 
speedy ; or else he may reach the Grove before 
me. Which way will he take? O, the lover's path, 
no doubt — through the fields. The road for me : 
my elegant new curricle will be of service on this 
occasion, I declare ! [Exit 



SCENE III.] HONOUR. 39 

SCENE III. 

The Library at Col. Choleric 9 s, as before. 

Enter Capt. O'Carolan. 

C. O'C. The Colonel promised to attend me in 
the Library : and, to be sure, he welcomed me to 
this country-seat of his as cordially, as if the house 
had been born and bred in oldlreland itself. But, in 
my opinion now, these English country-seats are 
mighty troublesome contrivances : so many turn- 
ings and windings, ascendings and descendings — 
o'faith ! a nate snug little cabin for me, where all 
the stories are upon the ground-floor.— Eh ! who 
have we here? 

Enter Buckskin. 

Buck. Sir, your very humble. Know what's 
become of the host ? — hasn't been visible, nor his 
daughter either, since breakfast, I understand. 

C. O'C. A visitor, I suppose. (Aside.) Is it the 
Colonel you'd be inquiring for, Sir? 

Buck. Yes, the Colonel — or Miss Choleric — or 
any-body, just to talk to : yourself even, if no objec- 
tion. Who have I the honour to address ? 

C. O'C. Captain O'Carolan, Sir, at your 
service. 

Buck. Captain O'Carolan! good name, very 
good name: Captain O'Carolan. Such a bore 
now being alone : dull as a single horse walking 
the course— a thing I have seen— at some country 



40 HONOUR. [ACT III. 

races. Make any stay at the Grove, Captain? 
well acquainted with the Colonel ? 

C. O'C. I believe, Sir, you may say that. 

Buck. Known him years, Sir. One of the 
heartiest, merriest, good-humoured — Went to 
school with his nephew ; rattling dog ! just like 
his uncle : doesn't wear a sword, to be sure ; and 
the old man, between you and I, though he does 
— was always too wise to be shot at. 

C.O'C. Really! 

Buck. To see how men may be deceived ! Yes, 
yes, the Colonel's military, and, from his talk 
now, one would actually suppose he'd been at 
some foreign battle or other. 

C\ O'C. O' my conscience then I believed it. 

Buck. Ay, I dare say you'd an idea that he'd 
fought, and bled, and — and all the rest of it, for 
his country, eh ? 

C. O'C. And has he not, Sir? 

Buck. A word in your ear: never smelt 
powder ! 

C. O'C. Harkee, Sir. The first time I have 
the honour of conversing with a man, I always 
endeavour to leave an impression of my civility 
behind me. That being the case, I'd simply, on 
this occasion, be inquiring, whether or not you 
happen to have any inclination to quit this room 
in a whole skin ? 

Buck. Sir! 

C. O'C. Because, if you have — by St. Patrick ! 
Fd advise you to remove immediately. 



SCENE III.] HONOUR. 41 

Buck. Why, what the devil, Sir, do you mean 

by- 

C. O'C. No more words ! or, by the indignation 
of a soldier, returning to his country to hear a 
thing like thee daring to speak contemptuously of 
one of its bravest defenders — 

Buck. Sir! Nay, but I assure you, Sir, — 
Here's a predicament ! \_Aside. 

C. O'C. Decamp, Sir ! or I'll— 

Buck. (Going, returns) But now, really Sir — 
upon my honour, Sir — 

C. O'C. Your honour ! Begone, I say : the 
Colonel's roof, more even than your own in- 
significance, protects you. 

Buck. Does it, Sir ? Then, without a compli- 
ment, I'm under the highest obligations to his 
roof, certainly. \_Exit. 

C.O'C. This coxcomb should be brother to a 
score or two that I've before observed; — for, by 
the powers ! there's a decent sprinkling of them in 
India too; — one that from sheer vanity, as it should 
seem, will always be pretending to a knowledge 
of every body and of every subject. — O, at last, 
the Colonel, and his daughter. Poor, pretty 
thing ! she looks melancholy, faith ! — though I'm 
told she's just going to be married. 

Enter Col. Choleric and Emmeline. 

Col. C. Still my girl, still no objections to Sir 
Jasper, upon his own account. 

Emm. I know so little of him, dearest father : 



42 HONOUR. [ACT III. 

my cousin Edmund I had known so long ! 

\_In an under tone to the Colonel. 

C. O'C Her cousin Edmund ! [Aside. 

Cot. C. Emmeline ! don't incense me ! don't 
speak of Edmund. 

Enter Sir Jasper Jay, hastily. 

Sir Jas. Colonel — Miss Choleric — your most 
obedient. [Bows to Capt. O'Carolan. 

Col. C. Sir Jasper Jay — Captain O'Carolan — 
of the Artillery, Sir Jasper. 

C. O'C. To be sure, then, Sir Jasper can make 
his approaches to Miss Choleric, without the as- 
sistance of a brother officer. Retreat's the word 
with me. [Exit. 

Sir Jas. Returned earlier than expected, per- 
haps ?- — Miss Choleric will do me the justice to 
attribute my speed to its proper motive ? 

Emm. Permit me to retire. 

CoL C. Nonsense ! We are soldiers, girl: come, 
answer candidly. You consent — say so at once 
now — you consent to make your father and this 
worthy gentleman both happy ? 

Emm. Could Sir Jasper indeed accept a heart, 
so weak, that still, spite of itself, it is but too de- 
voted to another — could he accept of the esteem, 
which at a future time, upon our more intimate 
acquaintance, no doubt— but still without love — 

Sir Jas. Love ! (Crosses to Emmeline.) Excuse 
me, but — esteem — I think you said esteem. My 
dear Miss Choleric, in all modern attachments, 



SCENE III.] HONOUR. 43 

esteem is the very ne-plus-ultra of perfectibility : 
as well it may, when love, you know, is generally 
wanting. Try then, my dear madam, try if you 
can't esteem me now ; when married, you will be 
happy of course ; and as to love — love, I suppose 
— love — I'm really something at a loss on that 
subject. 

Emm. But would Sir Jasper forgive the wife, 
who might dare to be unhappy in his company ? 
Would he be content with cold and mournful sen- 
timents of esteem alone, while the heart of her 
he loves — 

Col. C. Emmeline! 

Emm. Dear father ! you must hear me now, 
Sir Jasper must hear me. Before I irrevocably 
consent to an union in which my affections take 
no part — 

Sir Jas. My dear Miss Choleric — oblige me — 
don't express yourself quite so strongly. 

Emm. Will you then, sir, marry one, whom you 
may shortly follow to her grave ? Ere you do so, 
I must in conscience tell you all my weakness : 
my heart will strive to overcome itself, but it may 
perhaps — it may — break in the endeavour! 

Col. C. Ay, girl, but my grave will be the first 
prepared, I see — by Edmund and by Emmeline ! 

Emm. O, father ! {Gives her hand hurriedly to 
Sir Jasper) Can you now accept my hand ? 

Sir Jas. Can I ? Transports and ecstacies ! 

Col. C. Eh ! Sir Jasper ! dance, sing, laugh, 







44 honour. [act ii :. 

leap for joy, man. My dear, naughty, good, sweet 
Emmeline ! (Kisses her) Appoint the day. 

Emm. Father! 

Col. C. Dance, dance, and sing ! To-morrow ! 
girl, to-morrow! — Nay, nay, no little affectations 
now. There, compose yourself; walk in the air; 
we'll join you. (Exit Emmeline.) My friend ! 
(Taking Sir Jasper's hand) what want I with 
nephews now ? Well, now I'm happy ! and so 
cool, and so comfortable — as 'tis my nature to be 
— only the people about me will always be saying 
or doing something, on purpose to put me in a 
passion. And yet, that boy now, that graceless 
nephew of mine — (Musingly) — I remember well 
how he looked, pretty curly-headed rogue ! — just 
four years old — the day that I first saw him. My 

poor sister left him to my care ! He's a d d 

scoundrel! but I once loved him. 

Sir J as. (Affecting hesitation) I — Pm really 
sorry — I beg pardon for just now mentioning a 
circumstance, that may seem perhaps — but, my 
dear sir, all is confirmed. I have seen Flora this 
morning, and, with her — Mr. Villiers ! 

Col. C. Flora ! how ? what ? this morning ! 

Sir Jas. This morning, Colonel. Business, I 
informed you, would necessarily carry me a short 
distance from this place, and — in fact, had lost 
my road ; enquired by chance at a house before 
unknown to me; saw a lady — you guess — Flora. 
My company, it immediately appeared, was as un- 
desired as unexpected ; a gentleman being there 
before me — Mr. Villiers — 






SCENE III.] HONOUR. 45 

Col C. Zounds ! and but last night he visited 
my daughter ! 

Sir Jas. Be calm, I entreat you, Colonel. 

Col. C. Calm ! — and proceeded from Emmeline 
to his mistress ? 

Sir Jas. As I conclude. Moderate your anger, 
my dear sir. 

Col. C. Moderate a fiddlestick ! Why, I'll— 
What passed between you, Sir Jasper? how did 
he behave ? 

Sir Jas. Why, I remonstrated with him, you'll 
observe, upon his conduct to Flora : exceedingly 
wrong of him to deceive the poor girl, you know ; 
exceedingly wrong, now don't you think so? So 
upon that we quarrelled : / would have fought, 
but he — 

Col. C. What ! 'tis'nt possible ! speak ! 

Sir Jas. Talked of appealing to you. You may 
expect him instantly. 

Col. C. If he dares to come within reach of me, 
the poltroon ! 

Sir Jas. Let's seek Miss Choleric, Colonel : I'll 
tell you on our walk. 

Col C. A coward too ! D me, if I'll be- 
lieve it. 

Sir Jas. Colonel ! 

Col. C. Excuse me, sir ; I'm an old man ; — and 
when he was a boy — his noble courage! Well, 
come. A coward, Sir Jasper ! a coward ! 

Sir Jas. I'll tell you all, Colonel. A coward, 
sir, a complete coward ! [Exeunt. 



46 HONOUR. [act III. 

SCENE IV. 

Colonel Choleric 9 s Park. 

Enter Emmeline. 

Emm. Alas ! alas ! on the brink of marriage 
then with one man, and the once-dear image of 
another, in spite of all my efforts, still rising up 
before me. But I think I've conquered all my 
love for him ? yes ; and if I should ever chance 
again to see him, my reproaches, I'm resolved, 
shall shew how little, very little now, he's in my 
thoughts, and how — O ! of all things, for his con- 
duct to poor Flora — I despise him. But I see 
my father, my betrothed lover too, approaching. 
Would they but let me wander by myself awhile ! 

Enter Edmund. 

Edm. Emmeline ! and alone ! {Advancing joy- 
fully.) 

Emm. Ah! Edmund! you here! Fly, fly, for 
heaven's sake: my father, Sir Jasper, are coming: 
fly, fly, I entreat you. 

Edm. Fly! you bid me fly! from my uncle! 
from Sir Jasper ! you intreat me ! 

Emm. I do, I do. Sir, I command you, leave 
me ; by my injuries, I command you. 

Edm. Emmeline ! 

Emm. Edmund ! Edmund ! have some pity on 



S-CRNEIV.] HONOUR. 47 

me. O ! do not meet him — Sir Jasper — my hus- 
band ! 

Edm. Husband ! do I hear ? 

Emm. Away, sir ! I'll not listen to you. 

Enter Colonel Choleric, withheld by Sir Jasper. 

CoL C. Let me come at him ! 

Sirjas. Nay, my dear sir, pray, consult your 
dignity. 

Edm. My uncle too ! what ? how ? 

CoL C. Rascal ! Leave me, Sir Jasper ; I'll 
command myself. {Sir Jasper leaves him.) Ah! 
thou young miracle of wickedness! thouingrate! 
thou cool villain ! 

Edm. Emmeline ! (Passionately. She turns 
azvay.) Disdain! Nay, then, false girl ! 

CoL C. False ! Flow dare you, sir, address my 
daughter? False! you talk of falsehood ! you! 
arch-deceiver ! you ! 

Edm. But hear me, sir : uncle ! parent ! hear 
me. (Kneels.) Emmeline — ask her if she remem- 
bers one, whom once she said she loved ; to whom 
she plighted her first vows ; ask if she indeed 
remembers— (Emmeline appears sinking ; Sir Jas- 
per approaches ; Edmund, starling from his kneel- 
ing posture, rushes towards her.) Nay, lean on me, 
my Emmeline. (She leans on Sir Jasper s shoulder: 
Edmund turns away in anguish.) 

Emm. Lead me, lead me to the house, Sir 
Jasper. [Exit with Sir Jasper. 

CoL C. Boy ! boy ! with that smooth tongue ; 
what ! dumb to this ? 



48 HONOUR. [ACT III. 

Edm. Emmeline ! where is Emmeline ? Gone 1 
and with Sir Jasper? — Is this some dreadful 
dream ? Why do my uncle's lips, once breathing 
kindness only to the nephew who reveres him 
even as a father, why do they now load him with 
opprobrious epithets? Why, sir, do you call me 
ingrate ? me villain ? How have I forfeited your 
favour ? how your daughter, sir ? 

Col. C. So warm at last, good nephew ! 

Edm. Pardon me. O, sting me as you will, 
still, as your nephew, Colonel Choleric, the or- 
phan you adopted, once esteemed, ingrate I were, 
did not your former generosity yet, yet obliterate 
your present harsh, unjust resentment. 

Col. C. Thou matchless hypocrite ! Who was it, 
but last night, that meanly stole into his uncle's 
garden ? 

Edm. Ha ! 

CoL C. Again, sir ; who was the person Sir Jas- 
per, but this morning, saw with Flora ? 

Edm. Flora! 

CoL C. Does that name move you, sir? does 
conscience work ? Let conscience preach within 
you, then : let Sir Jasper again call you — coward ! 
For once I feel too much contempt for anger : I 
leave you. 

Edm. You shall not, Colonel Choleric ! 

Enter Captain O'Carola??, behind. 

Col. C. Shall not ! 

Edm. By heaven! you shall not — till you hear 



SCENE IV.] HONOUR. 49 

me. {Kneels, and clasps Colonel C.'s hand.) Again 
thus humbly do I implore you: but listen ! I have 
some enemy! — (Col. C. struggles to free himself.) 
Nay, hear me ! hear me ! 

Col. C. Hear thee, scorpion! Thus, thus J shake 
thee off — for ever ! 

Earn. (Rises: staggers aj ter Col. C.) Havel 
twice knelt in vain to him ? Some mist surrounds 
me. Sir Jasper! love Sir Jasper! did she say love 
him ? — husband ! 

C. O'C. This should be the nephew, Edmund. 
(Aside. Approaches.) On the sincerity of a 
soldier, young gentleman, I'm much concerned 
for you. 

Edm. Sir ! 

C. O'C Nay, no offence, my dear boy. I'm 
an inmate of your uncle's just now, {Edmund bows) 
and would be taking the small liberty to say — 
faith ! that the man might at least have listened 
to you. 

Edm. I wish not to hear any reflections on my 
uncle, sir. 

C. O'C. I like him. (Aside.) Then, sir, not- 
withstanding, as I'd guess, you're conceiving your- 
self unjustly treated by him, still, it appears — 

Edm. I permit no one to make observations on 
his conduct to his nephew. 

C. O'C. Stops my mouth, by the powers! (Aside) 
Sir, I respect you. You have a soldier's heart, 
though it happens not to beat under regimentals. 

K 



50 HONOUR. [ACT III. 

One word : I think you spoke of enemies. Here 
is an arm, that— 

Edm. Sir, this unexpected courtesy but op- 
presses where it would serve. For my actions I 
am not used to need an advocate, nor for mv 
protection an ally, You would oblige, by leaving 
me. [Captain O'Carolan retires a little. 

Enter Sir Jasper Jay. 

Sir Jasper again ! then tell me by what arts thou, 
and that harpy, Flora — 

Sir Jas. Be cool, Mr, Villiers. Had better get 
him away quietly, I think, for fear the truth should 
appear. (Aside.) 

Edm. Cool ! cool ! 

C. O'C. (Advances.) O, faith ! Sir Jasper then 
is one of those same enemies. Well, gentlemen 3 
as of course you — -you will fight this out — 

Sir Jas. Why, I have no wish to make things 
unpleasant to Mr. Villiers — if he thinks proper, 
well and good. But, as I have some reason to 
believe he is more partial to argument than fight- 
ing, perhaps he'll have the goodness to take my 
advice, and not farther press his company in a 
place where he must perceive it is rather disagree- 
able. 

Edm. Traitorous coxcomb ! (Advancing in a 
threatening manner.) 

Sir Jas. Mr. Villiers ! will you condescend to 
listen to me ! 

Edm. Listen ! (Contemptuously.) 



SCENE IV.] HONOUR. 51 

C. O'C. No, no, you are right, sir, (to Edmund) 
quite right, I think, really: no parley, no ar- 
mistice, with rancour in your hearts. Sir Jasper, 
you see now you are the guest of my old friend : 
still, if this gentleman should be requesting me to 
be his second — 

Enter Buckskin. 
and this hero {Buck, is retreating s he detains him) 
— be asy, man ! 
Edm. Buckskin! 

C. O'C. (To Sir Jasper) Will be yours. 
Buck. I — actually, gentlemen — I don't under- 
stand. 

C.O'C. Tut! never be frightened now : the 
principals only, I dare say, will have occasion to 
engage. Or, in case they shouldn't be able to 
conclude the matter satisfactorily, why, then per- 
haps, a little genteel bit of a turn between you and 
I — just to settle the affair, you know— 

Buck. Why, sure, you're not going to fight, 
Jay, are you ? If so, I — I wash my hands of the 
business ; III go, and — 

C. O'C. No, no, Sir, you'll stay ; and if you 
can't be asy — do try now and be as asy as you 
possibly can. 

Edm. (To Capt. O'C) Really, Sir, your inter- 
ference on this occasion is unnecessary. Though 
no duellist, I can defend myself, take a friend's 
part, or assert my own rights, whenever circum- 
stances demand it of me. But when between my- 



52 HONOUR. [act III. 

self and justice there stand but this poor pair of 
fops — 

Sir Jas. {Advancing to him) Fops, Sir ! 

Buck. (Advancing) Fops, Sir! 

Enter Col. Choleric, Emmeline leaning on his arm, 
and Flora following. Flora retires on entering. 

Col. C. That's right! Knock 'em both down, 
Edmund! knock the puppies down, mj boy ! I've 
found it all out : huzza ! huzza ! knock 'em both 
down, I say, boy! 

Sir Jas. Do you mean to insult me, Sir ? 
Col. C. This lady (Brings Flora forward) will 
inform you farther, Sir. 

Flo. Sir Jasper, but for your unmanly conduct 
in depriving me, upon a pitiful pretence, of the 
only roof your falsehood had left in the wide 
world to shelter me, you had now reached the sum- 
mit of your wishes: but your aggravated mean- 
ness thus punishes itself; and repenting, as I now 
do, the part I took in injuring that noble youth 
with his good uncle, I come to tear the mask that 
veils your vices from his view, and restore the 
happiness I for a time disturbed to all here who 
deserve it. 

Sir Jas. Upon my honour ! 
Col. C. Stain not that word any longer, Sir Jas- 
per, by your repeated misapplication of it. The 
pattern of true honour is before you, as I am 
proud to say, in my brave, worthy nephew; and, 
more, I now confess I see no honour, when a man 



SCENE IV.] HONOUR. S3 

has injured you, in giving him the chance of 
putting you to death by way of compensation. 
You also, sir, (To Buckskin) I find, have practised 
on my credulity — 

Buck. Sir, I'm really most excessively sorry, 
if— 

Col. C. But you, sir, for words even are too 
contemptible. Leave us, coxcombs, both ! and 
be grateful that you are spared the chastisement 
the arm of an old soldier would yet inflict, did he 
now think you worthy to excite his resentment. 

Sir Jas. So, then, my friend Buckskin — you and 
I, Buckskin, eh? — shall we go, Buckskin ? 

C. O'C. 'Twill be the genteelest thing in life, it 
strikes me, gentlemen. Make yourselves wanting 
by all manner of means, and III answer for it youll 
neither of you be missed. 

Sir Jas. O, come along, then, my dear Buck- 
skin — my dear fellow — come along, my dear Buck- 
skin. 

Buck. Certainly, to oblige the company, cer- 
tainly. Come along, come along, my dear Sir 
Jasper. 

[Exit with Sir Jasper, arm in arm. 
Col. C. And now, my boy ! my noble boy ! can 
you forgive your credulous old uncle ? 

Edm. Forgive ! that word ! O, say then am I 
still the nephew, who — 

Col. C. My son ! my son ! as dear to me as my 
own Emmeline. There, take her ; her love, I 



54 HONOUR. [ACT III. 

know, is yours ; and from this day her hand and 
fortune ; yours now beyond the reach of malice ; 
yours by a chance, that seems the hand of heaven ! 

[Joins their hands. 

To the Audience. 

And thus our joy 's complete, if You approve 
This union of True Honour with True Love. 

[Curtain falls. 



EPILOGUE*, 

Spoken bu Mrs. West and Mrs. Orger. 



Enter Mrs. West. 
Mrs. W. The Epilogue I'm called upon to say — 

Enter Mrs. Orger. 

Bless me ! I thought you died, Ma'am, in the Play ! 
Mrs. O. No, indeed, Ma'am ! I think, believe me, too, 

1 have as good a right to speak as you. 
Mrs. W. O, as you please — e'en have it as you will — 
Mrs. 0. Yes, certainly, for I am Flora still ; 

And still assert my right your plans to mar, 
And plead my cause at this most noble bar. 
Ladies and Gentlemen ! I come before you, 
To say — what was't to say ? — O, to implore you, 
Not for my sake to be o'erwhelmed with sorrow, 
For, if you please, I'll die again to-morrow ! 
Mrs. IV. Yes, gentle sirs ! and I, for such a treasure 

As my good coz, would wed again with pleasure ! 
Mrs. 0. So, Mistress Pert ! nay, this is past endurance ; 
The Manager shall hear of your assurance : 
And, for that saucy Prompter, though he knew 
That you were here, and would be speaking too, 
To tell me, with a melancholy phiz, 
The bills announced me, and the folks would hiss, 

* Though this Epilogue does not apply to the piece in its present form, 
the narration of the incident on which it principally turns being omitted, 
yet, at the particular request of several friends, it is here printed from 
the original. 



EPILOGUE. 56 

Although I were as dead as any log, 
Unless I rose to spout an epilogue — 
I'll rate him well — so speak on, 'twill not fret me; 
But, for your punishment, you shan't forget me ; 
, I'll Flora be — (To the Audience) — as often as You'll let 
me. {Exit. 

Mrs. W. Tis I, at last, must speak then for this poet : 

In truth I can't say much — perhaps you know it ; 

Gents ! if you're pleased, be kind enough to show it. 

And yet, thus much I'll say — it must have force — 

This play's — alas ! poor man! — his Hobby-horse ! 

Hobbies, he hears, are now the mode accounted, 

So, for nine nights at least, he hopes he's mounted. 

To-night he rode most timidly and slow> 

But, should you make his hobby-horse i the go,' 

He'll cleave the air, and O! how then he'll prize him! 

— Now don't you be so cruel to capsize him ! 

But think, ye beaux ! how great would be the hardship, 

Should one of you — perhaps his dandy lordship — 

Be riding post elatedly some day, 

And a whole swarm of critics bar the way ; 

Fall foul upon the hobby, and his master, 

And, 'midst the hubbub of such sad disaster, 

Some say he rode too fast, some swear he should ride 

faster ; 
While horse and rider, in no gentle sort, 
Are prostrated, and flounder in the dirt ! 
Then give the poet — to yourselves be true — 
But, if you can, give him his Hobby too. 



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